


When the Stars Threw Down Their Spears

by umisabaku



Series: Shapeshifter Courtship Rituals and Other Misunderstandings [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Shapeshifters, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-31
Updated: 2016-12-31
Packaged: 2018-09-13 13:10:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9125158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/umisabaku/pseuds/umisabaku
Summary: "It’s hard to understand the hierarchy when a school like Nekoma exists, putting them all together like they belong, but by the time Kenma enters high school he understands the difference. Kuroo is a black panther, rare and precious; a large predator stronger than most any other foe.Kenma is a calico housecat. His coloring is uncommon, but he is not special."Shapeshifter!AU. Kenma struggles with a culture and the rules of courtship.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Italiano available: [When the Stars Threw Down Their Spears](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15801993) by [Alasse_Schwarz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alasse_Schwarz/pseuds/Alasse_Schwarz)



> The complete KuroKen Shapeshifter AU that I first began over on tumblr (umisabaku.tumblr.com)
> 
> There are other pairings that feature here or are implied, but I'm not tagging them to avoid spoilers. But if you want spoilers, I have included them at the end notes!
> 
> Title comes from William Blake's "The Tyger" since I figured that was a fitting poem for a story about cat shapeshifter.
> 
> Also, I had a secret beta fish, so, thank you, secret beta fish!! Although all mistakes are my own.

Kenma is six years old and he has a best friend.

The first time he says, “Can I go over to Tetsu’s house to play?” his mother swats him on the head.

“You must call him, ‘Kuroo-san,’” she chides.        

Kenma puts his hands on his head and glares, resentfully. “He said to call him Tetsu! He calls me ‘Kenma’ and he said—”

“ _He_ can call you Kenma,” his mother interrupts, “He can call you whatever he likes, but _you_ must always remember the difference. You are not equals, and you must never, ever forget that, even if _he_ does.”

Kenma is six years old and he has a best friend and he doesn’t understand why they’re not equals, not then. But he never forgets to call him ‘Kuroo’ from then on.

*

It’s hard to understand the hierarchy when a school like Nekoma exists, putting them all together like they belong, but by the time Kenma enters high school he understands the difference. Kuroo is a black panther, rare and precious; a large predator stronger than most any other foe.

Kenma is a calico housecat. His coloring is uncommon, but he is not special.

It is, of course, frustrating that all “cat” shifters are lumped together as if they were the same when clearly they are not. He knows large cats are so few that they couldn’t possibly have their own school, and by necessity, that’s why they go to Nekoma with the common housecats.

And he likes going to school with Kuroo. He does.

But still. He wonders what it might be like to go to a school like Karasuno, where everyone is a crow, and everyone is the same. Or even Fukurodani; there are many types of owls but when all is said and done everyone is still just, well, an owl.

The difference between a housecat and a panther is too huge. They’re literally a different species.

It’s weird to pretend otherwise.

*

The worst part about volleyball is the fact that the large cats at school, few in number though they are, inevitably end up flocking to sports. (They are naturally stronger, faster, more athletic; of course they come to the sports teams, of course they do).

And if given the choice, Kenma would much prefer _not_ to be on any kind of sports team. He knows he is the epitome of a domestic cat shifter stereotype ( _lazy; would rather stay indoors, practically a pet; would rather someone brought your food on a plate than hunt_ —he’s heard it all before) but he doesn’t care.

He likes being indoors. He likes sleep a whole lot, and since no one has actually hunted for their food since man invented the grocery store he sees no point in valuing an active life.

But Kuroo.

Kuroo plays, so Kenma plays.

*

Even when the Third Years torment him—a _lazy housecat has no place on this court_ —he still plays because Kuroo asks him to play.

*

Things are better once Kuroo rules; but they’re also the same. Kuroo is still a panther, Kenma is still a housecat.

“Kenma,” Kuroo says, holding onto his wrist. “You don’t need to be so distant. You know I—”

But Kenma can’t let him finish the statement— _you are not equals, and you must never, ever forget that, even if_ he _does_ —and pulls out of Kuroo’s hold.

“I’m not being distant,” he says. “You’re imagining things.”

*

If it wasn’t clear enough already that large cats and domestic cats were a completely different species, the various stereotypes when it came to courtship and marriage would have really hammered those differences home.

Housecats—as the saying went—had no class and no rules when it came to mating. “Cats will sleep with anyone,” was a common sneer. “Cats don’t care about pedigree. They might as well be _crows._ ”

And to some extent, that was true. Of all the shifters, domestic housecats and crows were the least likely to care about preserving bloodlines. It was, Kenma understands, one of the reasons why Nekoma and Karasuno had always gotten along so well, despite the fact that they were in completely different prefectures. When the majority of the shifter communities considered cats and crows as garbage, it only made sense to battle in the garbage heap together.

Large cats were a different story altogether.

*

There were so few wild cat shifters left in the world, that all marriages were strictly monitored.

As Kenma understood it, it’s not that they didn’t have a choice when it came to marriages, it was just generally accepted that they had to choose another large cat shifter.

Kenma joins the Nekoma volleyball club with the understanding that Kuroo is expected to marry Yamamoto Taketora, the tiger shifter, at the end of high school.

*

“It’s not going to happen, Kenma,” Kuroo says, stretching his legs out to rest on Kenma’s lap, with his back pressed against the headboard on Kenma’s bed. They rest like this all the time—Kenma at Kuroo’s house, Kuroo at Kenma’s house. They have since they were children, it’s nothing remarkable.

Kenma doesn’t look up from the game he’s playing. “OK.”

“I mean it. You’ve seen us together. There’s no way _you_ actually think we would get married. Not _you._ ”

Because he observes things. Because Kuroo has a truly ridiculous amount of faith that Kenma knows things about people that no one else does; because Kenma is supposedly the brain of Nekoma.

(Kenma doesn’t deny the fact that he’s a natural observer, he just doesn’t think it warrants Kuroo’s complete faith in him.)

But because he _is_ an observer, Kenma knows what Kuroo is saying is true. Kuroo and Yamamoto are friends and teammates, but there’s never been any indication that either of them wants more from each other.

“It doesn’t matter to me either way,” Kenma says. “It’s not any of my business.”

Kuroo just leans back, looking up at the ceiling. “You know, Kenma, I really hate that quality about you.”

Kenma doesn’t say anything to that; he just concentrations on this current level in the game. He keeps trying to jump over the lava pit and he keeps falling in.

*

Kenma isn’t particularly interested in the Karasuno practice game—he’s never particularly interested in _any_ of the practice games—it just means a lot of travel and meeting new people and exertion in games that aren’t even official.

“Guys, guys, be more excited about this!” Yamamoto yells on the bus ride over. “These are our _destined_ rivals, don’t you see? Coach has had this rivalry his _entire life._ The rivals we meet today are _lifetime_ rivals.”

“Yamamoto, you’re not meeting your future bride. It’s just volleyball,” Inouka teases.

“Didn’t you hear me? _Lifetime rivals._ This is a bigger commitment than marriage! Kuroo, back me up on this.”

“This is the closest Yamamoto’s going to come to a lifetime commitment, guys, be kind,” Kuroo drawls.

“Hey!” Yamamoto sputters.

“I hope there’s a female manager,” Fukunaga says.

*

Kenma doesn’t put much stock in any of this. Destined rivals, life long partnerships.

But then he meets Hinata Shouyou.

*

Kenma has never once made a friend on his own. His friendship with Kuroo was mostly defined by proximity and Kuroo’s own insistence that they hangout—and everyone else he met (i.e., the volleyball team) was a further extension of Kenma’s relationship with Kuroo.

Here are the things that stand out about meeting Hinata Shouyou: the crow is clearly the kind of person who doesn’t have difficulty talking to anyone; he is not deterred by Kenma’s quiet manner like most people; he seems genuinely interested in the things Kenma has to say, and in the end, it had actually been fairly _easy_ to talk to him.

Talking to people was almost never _easy_.

And the thing that sticks with Kenma after they leave is the fact that Hinata had approached him afterwards, and declared his intent to make Kenma enjoy a volleyball game. Ordinarily, Kenma might resent the implication that his nature needed to change, but he was reeling from the surprise that Hinata was still talking to him at all.

People like Hinata, who made friends with everyone easily, didn’t usually stick around Kenma too long; once Hinata had bonded with Inuoka—someone much closer to him in temperament—Kenma expected Hinata to forget all about him. Instead, they’ve exchanged phone numbers and Kenma walks away thinking he’s probably actually going to keep in contact with the other boy, and it’s a new and kind of dizzying sensation.

He doesn’t miss how quiet Kuroo is through all this.

*

“He was just _so cool,_ ” Yamamoto gushes, as he’s been gushing the entire bus ride home. Kenma would have thought the tiger would have fixated on the pretty crow manager, but he’s been enthusiastically focused on his new friend the entire time. “I mean, his spikes were _amazing,_ and he’s such a nice dude. I had no idea crows were so awesome.”

“Their libero was really good,” Yaku remarks, “But I liked their vice captain. For some reason, I always assumed crows would be really mean, but Sugawara was a really level headed guy.”

The entire bus ride has been like that: even the coaches were pleased with the new bonds forged today. Kenma understands where it’s coming from—of course he does. It’s refreshing to meet a team as equals, instead of having to bear, once again, the inherent prejudices against cats.

 _“You_ seemed to get along well with number ten,” Kuroo finally remarks.

Kenma just shrugs. “You got along with their captain just fine.”

“He was a crafty guy and I like that.” Kuroo doesn’t say anything else for the rest of the bus ride, and it’s an uncomfortable silence. Kenma concentrates on his game because he’s not sure what to do with the anger he senses.

*

They’re on their way home, about to separate to go to their respective houses, when Kenma finally says, “Are you mad at me, Kuroo?”

He knows Kuroo is not. Kuroo doesn’t get mad at him. But he doesn’t know how else to broach the subject.

“No, Kenma, I’m not,” Kuroo says, looking up at the sky. “I’m mad at myself. I hate that I feel this way.”

It’s one of those moments where Kenma’s analytical skills actually make things worse. His brain runs through a dozen different options that Kuroo might mean with that statement—he hates that he likes Kenma, hates that doesn’t like crows, he hates that they’re friends—and none of the options get Kenma any closer to understanding what Kuroo meant.

“ _He_ can be your friend,” Kuroo says, finally meeting Kenma’s gaze. “ _He_ can be your equal, _he_ could be your—” he stops and doesn’t finish the sentence. “Sorry,” he says, looking away. “I know it’s not fair to you.”

Kuroo heads back to his house without a glance back, and Kenma’s brain finally settles on the answer: Kuroo hates that he feels jealous.

*

Kuroo’s jealousy might be easier to handle if Kenma didn’t have so much of his own. When Haiba Lev joins their team, it’s only a reminder of the distance between him and his best friend.

Lions, especially male lions, are rare (even more so in Japan. Pretty much the only Japanese lions are the result of deliberate mixed breeding, like Lev) and even though the First Year is incredibly exuberant about playing volleyball and being the Ace, it’s very obvious to everyone (except, curiously, maybe Lev) that the Russian is only here because he’s supposed to marry either Kuroo or Yamamoto.

*

“Well, this one’s all on you, pal,” Kuroo says, clapping Yamamoto on the shoulder. “Enjoy your happy life.”

“Oh, _hell_ no, nuh uh, this one is for you, _friend_ ; a lowly tiger like me wouldn’t _dream_ of mating with a lion.”

“Come on, it’s not like _you’re_ interested in anyone else. So if _you_ claim the kid, my parents will back off from nagging at me—”

“Who says I’m not interested in anyone else?” Yamamoto bristles.

Kuroo tilts his head. “Are you?”

“Th-that’s none of your business! And anyway, I’m not interested in some high energy brat.”

There’s a long pause as the two predatory cats stare at each other, and then they simultaneously say, “Yaku.”

“Yaku can deal with him,” Kuroo says, nodding.

“He’s really the best for whipping uppity First Years into shape,” Yamamoto says.

The two depart without ever realizing that Kenma was close enough to hear this entire exchange.

It seems cowardly, to him, to make Yaku “deal with” the First Year. Yaku might be able to train some sense into the kid, but it’s not like leaving Lev to Yaku is going to solve the problem of romantic entanglements.

After all, Yaku was just a housecat.

So it’s not like _he_ could mate with Lev.

(Kenma also studiously refuses to think too much about Kuroo’s proclamation, _“It’s not like_ you’re _interested in anyone else._ ” The implication that Kuroo _is_ , in fact, interested in someone else is something Kenma is deliberately trying not to think too much about).

*

“Kenma-san! Kenma-san, toss for me! I swear, I’ve got a handle on this now!” Kenma grimaces. Yaku _is_ actually training Lev, but for some reason, the First Year has fixated on Kenma. The energetic enthusiasm Kenma had found strangely endearing in Hinata Shouyou is _very_ unflattering in the 194 cm Russian.

“Don’t bug Kenma so much,” Inouka warns. Kenma can hear the warning, clear as Lev can, and even though Kenma has a pretty good idea what Inouka is warning against (and resents the hell out of it) Kenma chooses to ignore the underlying subtext in Inouka’s caution.

But then _Lev_ surprises him by not only a) understanding immediately what Inouka is saying but b) commenting on it.

“Ehh? It’s not like I mean anything by it. I know Kenma-san belongs to the Captain.”

Kenma nearly chokes on air. The rest of the Nekoma team suddenly finds the world around them _very_ interesting, and they all stare somewhere that isn’t Kenma, and subtly inch away.

If Kenma was a different kind of person, he would be shouting by now. But the only thing he can do is say in a stilted and strangled way, “I’m not—Kuroo and I aren’t like—that.”

“ _What?_ ” Lev says, looking at _Kenma_ like he’s the one who is being insane right now. “No way. Kuroo-san’s scent is _all_ over you.”

The rest of the Nekoma team continues to inch away. Inouka coughs violently and Kai elbows him in the ribs.

Kenma knows. Of course he knows he smells like Kuroo. It’s not like he could have _missed_ that.

“We’re not like that,” Kenma says again. He doesn’t meet Lev’s gaze—on principle, he has a hard time meeting _anyone’s_ gaze, and it’s not like he could really challenge a _lion_ like that, he’s not suicidal. But his voice is firm, and he makes it clear that this is the absolute end of this discussion.

“But—” Lev says, because the First Year is very dense.

“Oi! I told you to work on your receives, you brat!” Yaku comes in yelling, and Lev just lets out a startled, “Gah!” and Kenma has never been so happy to see another person before. Yaku is his new favorite person.

*

The nicest thing about his friendship with Hinata is that Hinata _is_ just a friend.

 _He_ _can be your friend,_ Kuroo had said. And it was true. Hinata could be. Hinata was).

They were equals, and that was nice—Kenma could just call him “Shouyou” and no one was there scolding him for the impropriety. But Kenma finds that it’s not so much the fact that they’re equals that makes their friendship so easy as the fact that they’re not…the thing that makes things so different being around Kuroo.

 (Yes. He knows what that “thing” is. He knows why it’s so hard to be near Kuroo sometimes, even when being near Kuroo was easy like breathing. But he can’t let himself name it—he can’t even _think_ it. If he doesn’t acknowledge it then they can just go on being what they’ve always been. As long as they both keep pretending they can continue on as always).

But with Hinata, they can just text, or talk on the phone, and all they’re doing is texting or talking and it’s nice and uncomplicated. Kenma likes having a friend more than he thought he would.

*

It’s more disappointing than he was expecting it to be when Hinata isn’t at the training camp. He feels personally betrayed by his own emotions when he sees Karasuno but no Hinata. Similarly, it’s a relief he’s not prepared for when he hears Hinata will be coming after all, that he’s just late.

Maybe, Kenma thinks after experiencing this range of emotions he wasn’t expecting, _Maybe I need someone who’s a friend. Maybe I need that more than I thought._

*

It’s that thought that drives him to toss for Hinata after training is over for the day—something he knew was so wildly out of character for him that even _he_ can’t believe he’s doing it.

He just really likes Hinata’s company.

And maybe… _maybe_ he wants to talk to someone who’s not a cat. Maybe it’d be nice to talk to someone who isn’t any kind of cat.

After five tosses he holds the volleyball still in his hands and says, “Hey, Shouyou…”

He trails off, realizing that he’s not entirely sure where he wanted to go with that. Hinata tilts his head, waiting.

Kenma can smell Hinata, and maybe _that’s_ the way to start this (inevitably awkward) conversation. “So you and Kageyama…” he trails off again, hoping Hinata will just fill in the blanks on his own and he doesn’t actually have to _say_ it.

His hopes are dashed when Hinata just frowns and says, “What about me and Kageyama?”

Ugh. He _really_ doesn’t want to say it. “So you guys are courting, right?”

“Wh—WHAT?” Hinata yelps, and flails around with more energy than he has any right to still possess after how many flying falls he had to do today. “No! That’s just—where’d you even get a crazy idea like that?! That’s just—madness! It’s madness!”

Kenma thinks Hinata would not be blushing so incredibly red if the boy actually thought this idea was absurd. Kenma coughs and says, “Well… his scent is all over you…”

(Which is unfair, considering. But. Also still accurate. Considering).

Hinata just frowns again. “His scent?”

And now _Kenma_ frowns, because this should really be obvious by _now._ “Well, yeah… you smell like Kageyama…”

“We drove up, together?” Hinata says. “We trained together?”

“No,” Kenma says, thoroughly confused now, “I mean, not like that?” Since they’re both staring at each other like they’re speaking a foreign language, Kenma feels like something must have been seriously lost along the way. And even though it _should_ be incredibly obvious, he tries to explain anyway, “…You’ve clearly been scented? On purpose? You know…claiming?”

Hinata continues to stare at him like Kenma just started speaking in Russian or something, but then realization flashes suddenly and Hinata says, “ _Oh,_ that mammal thing? The territory thing?”

“Err, kinda,” Kenma says.

“Man, why didn’t you just _say_ so?” Hinata says, slapping Kenma on the back. “Birds don’t do that.”

“Scenting?” Kenma says.

“Duh. I mean, we don’t really have a great sense of smell, you know? So what would the point even be?”

Put _that_ way, it actually makes sense, except for the fact that Hinata has clearly been claimed in a way that would be obvious to any mammalian shifter. “Er. So you’re _not_ courting…?”

“No, of course not,” Hinata says, rolling his eyes. “You’re probably just picking up on the fact that we spend a lot of time together. Avian courtship rituals are really complex. There’s a lot of gifts and food involved. Not _scenting_ though. That’s just weird. And also, doesn’t sound very romantic.”

“Well, there’s other factors….” Kenma starts, but since those other factors usually involve complex lineage charts and negotiations with parents, he figures maybe Hinata has a point about mammalian shifters not being particularly romantic with their courtship rituals.

As Hinata goes bouncing away—in pursuit of someone else who will presumably toss for him—Kenma thinks about what Hinata just said.

And he wonders if _Kageyama_ knows avian courtship rituals don’t involve scenting.

(It’s not his business. He’s not going to ask. He wonders. But he’s not going to pursue that further).

*

Kenma thinks a lot about touch.

It starts at the training camp. When he can observe the other shifters when they’re all together. There’s a common stereotype that mammalian shifters are incredibly tactile, and for the most part, that’s true. Kenma has seen canine shifters—they’re _always_ touching—hugging, slinging arms around each other, laying on each other, cuddling. The touch doesn’t mean anything except _pack._ If two canine shifters are holding hands or even sharing a bed it doesn’t necessarily mean they’re _lovers,_ just that they’re family. (Kenma has never known a dog well enough to ask. He feels like that’s just one of those stereotypes people say, like, cats and crows will sleep with anything. But sometimes stereotypes are true).

The avian shifters – the crows and the owls—they don’t touch each other the same way. They seem to groom each other a lot more than seems necessary but there’s no excessive contact, as far as Kenma can tell.

The fish shifters of Ubugawa High don’t touch each other at all, and they always seem a bit taken aback when someone does touch them.

Cats are different. That is to say, there seems to be two kinds of cats: the ones who like to be touched and the ones that don’t.

When Inuoka is in his cat form (a short haired tabby) he cuddles with everyone, purring loudly as people pet him.

Kenma doesn’t like to be touched. He never has.

He likes to be near people, mostly. But if someone tries to pet him he usually shrinks away.

*

Sometimes, sometimes when it’s just him and Kuroo he doesn’t mind so much. When they’re just sitting on a bed, and Kuroo’s just running his hand over Kenma’s back, as Kenma drowsily falls asleep, it’s no bad thing, and if he starts purring it’s really only because he’s close to sleep, and it doesn’t mean anything.

*

For shifters, ( _mammalian_ shifters, Kenma corrects) there’s a difference between scent and _scent_. Scent is such a huge part of his life that until he talked to Hinata he hadn’t really put much thought into how confusing the whole differentiation would be for shifters who do not have an enhanced sense of smell. The whole culture would be different.

The entire time during the training camps Kenma keeps wondering if maybe he should try to explain the difference to Hinata.

When you spend enough time with anyone, you pick up their scent. But there’s a difference between smelling _like_ someone and smelling like _someone._

For example, Hinata smells _like_ Karasuno. Everyone on the team has a common scent they share just by virtue of the time they spent together. But he also smells like _Kageyama._

They’re both crows though, Kenma checked. So in the end he decides it’s probably better not to get involved because he clearly doesn’t understand what’s happening with the birds.

Also, as he tries to mull it over, he realizes he can’t even differentiate properly to himself. He couldn’t explain to Hinata how some scent is different any better than Hinata could explain what it’s like to fly.

Mammalian shifters, who are very tactile with one another, often carry another’s scent. But it’s different.

 _Territory,_ Hinata had said. And maybe that’s the best way to think about.

There’s a difference between the scent of a person and the scent of territory.

*

Yamamoto comes to school one day smelling _like_ Kuroo. (But not like _Kuroo_ ). It’s the same day he comes to school with a black eye, bruised lips, and cut knuckles.

“Tora’s going to be staying at my house for a bit,” Kuroo explains.

“I wasn’t…asking,” Kenma says. Everyone in Nekoma was talking and wondering but Yamamoto had snarled at the first person who’d asked and no one had been brave enough since.

“You’re not curious?”

Kenma shrugs. “It’s not my business.” He doesn’t look up from his game console. “Is he…OK?”

Now it’s Kuroo’s turn to shrug. “Probably not.”

*

“Eeeugh,” Lev says. If he was in his other form, his ears would be flat against his head and his tail would be swishing. “Yamamoto-san, why were you fighting with another tiger?”

Yamamoto glares so much the First Year hides behind Yaku.

Fighting with another tiger, staying at Kuroo’s house. There aren’t a whole of tigers in Tokyo, so it’s not all that hard to deduce that Yamamoto must have been fighting with a family member, probably a parent.

“Shut up, First Year, and go practice some flying falls,” Yaku says.

*

Kenma observes and he analyzes; these skills are what created a place for him in the Nekoma volleyball club.

But it’s entirely because of Kuroo that those skills mean anything; Kuroo who places Kenma at the center, Kuroo who makes Kenma everyone’s center.

And Kenma appreciates Kuroo’s efforts, but as someone who has always found a crowd difficult, it’s sometimes hard to breathe in the center.

“What do you think it was?” Inouka asks.

Kenma shrugs.

“Come on, Kenma, you have to know,” Fukunaga says. “Didn’t Kuroo say anything…?”

Kenma shakes his head. He’s not taking his eyes off his game, he doesn’t like the way they’re all staring at him.

“But even if the Captain didn’t say anything, you still _know_ , right?” Kai persists. “You know everything.”

“No, I don’t,” Kenma mumbles.

“Do you think Yaku-san knows?” Lev asks the crowd. Lev is the only predatory cat among them, and Yaku is the only housecat who is not.

“I don’t know Lev, why don’t you go ask him?” Inouka asks him in feigned innocence.

“Geh, no thanks,” Lev says, proving that the First Year is capable of learning after all.

The nice thing about Lev, Kenma thinks, is that he attracts a lot of attention; often diverting it to himself without even trying. It would be easy to chock that up to him being a lion (and a _male_ lion at that) but Kenma’s met Hinata Shouyou and thinks that some people just shine brighter.

At any rate, Lev makes it easier for Kenma to slink away without anyone noticing, and not have to listen to their theorizing anymore.

*

After practice, Yamamoto finds Kenma.

(And, this too, is probably because of Kuroo’s influence. This too is because Kuroo has made sure everyone know Kenma is the smartest member on the team).

Yamamoto finds Kenma sitting against the gym wall and he sits down next to him. This close, Kenma can smell the other tiger (although he wouldn’t have thought tiger, if Lev hadn’t pointed it out. His nose isn’t good enough to distinguish between predatory cats).

“You know what’s happening, don’t you?” Yamamoto says bluntly, without any preamble.

Kenma grimaces. It’s one thing to ignore the other club members when they ask, but if it’s Yamamoto, then it doesn’t feel right to pretend. “You fought with your dad, probably?”

“Yeah,” Yamamoto says looking down. He doesn’t say anything else but it’s not a comfortable silence. He’s clearly waiting for Kenma to continue.

“You…probably…are dating someone your family doesn’t approve of,” Kenma ventures.

“Yeah,” Yamamoto sighs, a whole lot of tragedy behind that one word.

There’s not a lot of other reasons why Yamamoto might be fighting with his parents, so it was easy enough to guess.

Kenma fidgets—he doesn’t want to continue. This isn’t a conversation he wants to have, but it seems like a conversation Yamamoto _needs_ to have and it would be crueler than Kenma is capable of being to walk away now.

“You’re…probably dating a bird.”

Yamamoto snaps his head up. “How’d you know _that?”_

“You’re not…scented, and birds don’t…do that, so…”

“Yeah, they don’t,” Yamamoto smiles and touches his ear. There’s a very shiny crystal stud in his left ear. “Man, Kenma. You really are smart.”

He hasn’t figured everything out. “Karasuno or Fukurodani?”

Yamamoto shoves his hands in his pockets, stretches out his legs, and leans back against the wall. “Karasuno. You really didn’t know?”

Kenma shakes his head. He instantly thinks about Hinata and wonders if the Karasuno First Year knows. “Is it…the manager?”

Yamamoto barks out a laugh. “Oh, man, no. Kiyoko-san is the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen and I’d gladly worship her until the day I die, but no.”  
That’s pretty much what Kenma would have guessed. And it only leaves one other possibility. “Tanaka, then?”

All mirth leaves and Yamamoto grows serious again. “Yeah, Ryu.” The way he says the name is like a whole other language. The fondness, the love, makes the name like a secret Kenma should be hearing spoken out loud.

“It’s not like what they say,” Yamamoto says abruptly, sounding angry. “Everyone says crows will sleep with anyone but that’s bullshit. Crows mate for life. He was—he was taking a bigger risk, falling for me. He knew tigers don’t court the same way and he still risked it.”

It seems like an absurd claim. Crows, as far as Kenma knows, will not exile their children for mating beneath them. Crows do not carry expectations of bloodlines. Crows do not have the burden of being tigers; rare and precious for their strength.

How could Yamamoto claim _Tanaka_ risked more? Yamamoto’s life will never be the same.

_Is he OK?_

_Probably not._

There wasn’t a happy ending at the end of this story. Yamamoto’s parents were never going to accept their son’s choice.

“Kenma, what should I do?” There is so much begging and desperation in his voice it hurts to hear.

This is another reason why Kenma hates the fact that people come to him for all the answers.

Sometimes there are no answers.

“I’m not sure,” Kenma mumbles, but he can’t leave it like that, he can’t face Yamamoto if he leaves it like that. “I’ll think about it.”

It really seems absurd that Yamamoto is comforted by that promise.

*

“God, its crazy right? No one could believe Tanaka-kun when he said. Noya-san is so upset, I thought he was going to start a fight—or go straight to Tokyo and pick a fight! He still might.”

“So crows don’t… approve either…” Kenma is a little disappointed by this. He’s not sure why, he was just hoping _someone_ was more enlightened. He was hoping there was at least one shifter species that didn’t care where love was.

“Only because he’s a tiger,” Hinata says, sounding apologetic. “Sorry, that’s not right either. We don’t care about mixed marriages, you know? But, well. There’s no guarantee, right? So that’s why we’re worried, and why Noya-san wants to fight someone.”

“…I’m missing something.” Which was occasionally the problem with talking to Hinata. The other boy would sometimes take huge leaps in conversations, or fill his explanations with onomatopoeia and it was sometimes difficult to follow along.

“Well, like, crows usually find their mates young, yeah? It’s not unusual, anyway. And with crows it’s just—BAM! You’re in love! And like, the courtship rituals draw it out, so you’re not committed or anything, so it gives you the chance in case you’re wrong. But eventually it’s just— _gwaa_ and you’re sure, and you’re mates, and it’s for life.

“But tigers aren’t like that, right? So I don’t know, man. I’m not sure I could ever love someone unless I know it was going to be forever. And you couldn’t _know_ that, with a tiger. It’s a pretty big risk, anyway. That’s why Noya-san is worried.”

Kenma is quiet for a very long time. Most of his silence is spent just trying to figure out Hinata’s words.

Crows mate for life, tigers don’t.

_He was taking a bigger risk._

There’s a whole lot there Kenma still doesn’t understand. He’s not sure he could—whatever is going on the Karasuno side of things is a crow’s affair.

But he thinks maybe he understands why Yamamoto had to confront his parents about this. Why he risked being kicked out ( _was_ kicked out) of the family by telling them he was in love with a crow. He needed to prove to his lover that he was in this for life.

“I think he knows,” Kenma says finally. “Tora, that is. He knows it’s forever. So Tanaka must too.”

“Yeah, that’s what Tanaka-san said,” Hinata replies. “After he got done fighting with Noya-san, that is. He says with mates you just know, and species doesn’t matter. So they’ll be fine.”

Kenma snorts, “Oh, _will_ they?” He can’t help but be sarcastic—Hinata clearly doesn’t understand cat shifters at all ( _tigers,_ at least).

“Well, sure.”

“He’s a tiger, Shouyou. His parents are never going to let him go through with this.”

It’s Hinata’s turn to be silent for a long time, thinking through a different culture, as Kenma had done.

“That’s stupid,” Hinata concludes. “If they both love each other, why would anything else matter?”

The question makes Kenma inextricably sad. “A lot of things, for rare shifters. Come on, Shouyou. Even you have to understand. Not all shifters are equal.”

“What? That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard. Of course we are. We all play volleyball, don’t we?”

Kenma shakes his head, even though he knows Hinata can’t see him. It’s something he feels like he might break apart if he tries to explain, so he doesn’t say anything.

*

The conversation distresses him in ways he can’t explain. He feels—off; agitated on a personal level without being able to pinpoint anything as fundamentally wrong.

At first he’s angry with Hinata—the crow’s opinions had been from a position of immense privilege and it infuriates Kenma that the other boy fundamentally doesn’t understand that for almost every other shifter community, bloodlines are something that must be carefully maintained.

But he keeps thinking about Hinata; question at the end— _we all play volleyball, don’t we?_ At first it had seemed incredibly naive and also a little childish, but the more Kenma thinks about it, the more he can’t help but think there’s a valid point there.           

Shifters are separated by species when they go to school, but they all competed against one another on equal footing in sports activities. Surely the difference between species couldn’t be so insurmountable.

_He can forget, but you cannot._

Kenma tries to banish these thoughts.

*

“Kenma.”

Just the sound of his name is too much to bear when it’s on Kuroo’s lips. No one has ever said his name like Kuroo does.

Kuroo leans in from behind and wraps his arms around him, sniffing at his neck, breathing in deep. Kenma knows what he’s doing—Kuroo has had Yamamoto in his territory for the past couple of days; Kenma can still smell Yamamoto on Kuroo’s skin. Kuroo is once again claiming what’s his. Kenma closes his eyes and stays very still, because he loves Kuroo’s scent, he always has. He likes the feeling of Kuroo against him.

Then he steps away.

“Kenma,” Kuroo says, distressed and unhappy with his sudden loss.

“I can’t help Yamamoto,” Kenma announces.

“That’s – no, of course you can’t, Tora doesn’t expect you to, not really. He’s just—”

“ _No one_ can help Yamamoto,” Kenma says forcibly. Kuroo breaks off and looks at him with a hurt and confused expression. “The problem isn’t with his family, it’s with our culture. And that’s not something anyone can just _fix,_ OK?”

“Kenma,” Kuroo says, and this time the name sounds like a plea, like Kuroo knows they’re not talking about Yamamoto anymore.

Kenma lets out a shaky breath and composes himself. Then he looks Kuroo square in the eye and says what he once promised himself he’d never say out loud:

“Kuroo, I love you.”

Kuroo’s eyes widen, and he takes a step forward. Kenma takes a step back, holding out his hands.

“I love you, but that doesn’t matter. We can’t keep pretending that things can go on like this. So let’s…just…not, OK? I can’t—I can’t—”

If he goes any further there will be nothing left of him. So he just walks away and he doesn’t look back.

*

He doesn’t go to school the next day. He just needs a day to recover. Instead, he shifts to his cat form, curls up under his blankets, and hides from the world.

It’ll be better tomorrow. Tomorrow he’ll be composed, like he always is.

Today, he needs to rest.

*

Kenma purposefully skips his first class the next day—he doesn’t want to risk seeing Kuroo on his way to school. Since they’re in different years, it’s only enough to avoid him throughout the day.

The problem is practice. But he can do this, he _can._

The coaches will be there, the team will be there. Everything can just go on as it always has.

*

Kuroo is waiting for him when he gets to the gym.

Kenma tried to sneak into the gym without anyone noticing, but his eyes immediately pick out Kuroo’s form in a crowd, and the other boy had been clearly watching the door for his arrival.

“Kenma!” Kuroo calls, moving towards him.

Kenma grimaces—his body automatically shifts towards a “fleeing” position but he doesn’t move. He trusts that Kuroo isn’t going to make a scene here.

Despite all his mental preparation, having Kuroo suddenly there, inches away from him, suddenly makes it difficult to breathe.

“Kenma,” Kuroo says, his voice low, gentle. “I thought about what you said.”

He’s too close. Kenma tries to move away, but Kuroo is still there and Kenma has never been more aware of another person.

Kuroo cups Kenma’s cheeks, the contact startling Kenma so badly he looks up and sees Kuroo; all of Kuroo. Kuroo’s dark eyes fixed on him, his expression uncharacteristically grave, his messy hair, his athletic figure, his lanky form. Everything about Kuroo is so painfully familiar; Kenma sometimes thinks he has every last detail of him memorized.

Even his touch—the tips of his fingertips his cheek—is more familiar than it has any right to be. Kuroo’s fingertips are calloused, his hands have always been warm, and his hold is so gently Kenma just wants to nuzzle into his palms.

He doesn’t. He just stays very still. “Kuroo, what are you doing?” His own voice is a desperate plea for kindness—he needs Kuroo to back away from what they both know will never work.

“Changing a culture,” Kuroo says, his voice hoarse.

And then he leans in and kisses him, there in front of everyone.

Kenma should pull away—he should put an end to this right now. But he’s put too much energy into resisting something he’s wanted so much for so long that the only thing left for him is to just give in so he does.

He kisses Kuroo back with the fervor and desperation of someone who is pretty sure he’s never going to have this again. But Kuroo’s kisses are a reassurance, a promise—this isn’t a one time thing.

When they break apart, the Nekoma volleyball club is whistling and catcalling. “Yeah, you get ‘im, Captain!”

“Woo, Kenma! You claim your man!”

And over the voices, Kenma hears Lev say excitedly, “Hey! Hey, Yaku-san! If _they’re_ doing it, then it’s OK for _us_ —”

“Shut up, First Year!” Yaku says, and out of the corner of his eye, Kenma can see the Third Year blushing.

But Kuroo is still looking at him, drawing all his attention, demanding Kenma look only at him.

“Kuroo, we can’t—”

“We _can,”_ Kuroo says firmly. “If it’s something we both know is _right,_ we can. Don’t you see, Kenma? Maybe our parents and grandparents disapprove, but _we’re_ the future. Nothing’s going to change until _we_ change it.”

It’s not that simple, Kenma wants to say. Things can’t change with just two people.

But it’s not just the two of them. There’s Yamamoto and Tanaka, who are in this for life. Maybe Lev and Yaku too, who knows maybe a whole bunch of people who don’t want what’s always been as what always will be.

_We all play volleyball, don’t we?_

Maybe it’s time they were all a lot more like crows.

“Kenma, do you want this?” Kuroo says, uncertainty, flicking across his face for the first time.

It’s such a simple question. He can’t believe he spent so much time running from the answer.

“Yeah, Kuroo. I do.”

Kuroo breaks out into a smile and pulls Kenma in close for another kiss. Yaku and the coaches are both yelling that enough is enough, and it’s time for practice already, but Kenma figures just this once, he’s going to ignore everything around him but what’s right here with him.

**Author's Note:**

> Other pairings are: Tanaka/Yamamoto with some implied Kageyama/Hinata and Yaku/Lev.
> 
> Kudos and comments are always thoroughly appreciated! Thank you so much for reading, you kind and lovely people. =D


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